He pointed his rifle at the kid, and then one of the other guys in Hicks’ fire team joined in, and now two or three of them were yelling, and I was saying, What the fuck, he’s a kid? Staff Sergeant Martin got right up in Colton’s face and shouted, “Sergeant, stop it!” and next thing I knew Colton had his rifle trained on Martin, and shit was completely out of control. I screamed “Sergeant, don’t do it!”
“Whoa, soldier. It’s a bad dream, kid. Time to wake up.”
My eyes had flown open and I wasn’t anywhere. I was on a plane. The old man who’d sat next to me had his hand on my arm, shaking me, but when my eyes opened, he pulled the hand back quickly. “Sorry, son ... you were having a nasty dream, had to wake you up.”
“Thanks,” I had muttered. The old man had tried to get me to talk about it, but I wasn’t ready for that. Instead, I opened up the in-flight magazine, and sat lazily paging through it as the plane descended into Texas.
When I walked out of the security gate at Houston’s Bush Intercontinental Airport, my eyes immediately focused in on Carrie. She stood apart from the other people waiting outside the gate, almost as if a space automatically formed around her because of her height or her beauty or maybe just general badassery. This was a lady who handled mountain lions for a living, after all.
It was cold, and she wore a plum-colored knit sweater-dress over black leggings with high-heeled knee-high boots. A scarf was wrapped around her neck, and she wore a funky grey hat. Everything about her outfit emphasized her long, lean body, the curve of her hips and legs and breasts. When she saw me she gave a tentative smile, and I grinned back and walked toward her. It was the strangest feeling. We’d only known each other in person for a weekend. But I’d spent so many hours on the phone with her since, so many hours chatting with her online, that I felt like I’d known her a very long time.
Awkward moment, then, as we came face to face and I met her eyes, eyes shaded by impossibly long lashes, eyes that sucked me in. We stood closer than we ever had before, and I could see them so clearly, the blue green surrounded by a dark iris. She wore just the barest touch of makeup. She blinked, once. Did we know each other well enough for a hug? A kiss even? I wanted to touch her, so badly that my entire body shook. But I didn’t know if it was too early. Her smile faltered for a second, then came back, and she met my eyes again, and I could tell she was asking herself the same question.
Well, then, screw it. I reached for her and pulled her to me, wrapped my arms around her and breathed her in. Instantly she melted into my arms. With her heels, she was almost my height, and I could smell the very faint fragrance she used. Her arms, muscular but tiny at the same time, wrapped around my shoulders, and I smiled, pulled back just a little and looked in her eyes. “So are you going to freak if I kiss you?” I asked in a calm, level tone.
Her eyes widened, almost imperceptibly.
“I….” She stopped.
Permission enough.
I leaned in, my lips just barely brushing hers. Christ, I’d wanted that for weeks. She moved, bringing herself closer, pressing her lips against mine, and then her mouth was open slightly, and mine was. I drank in the sensation of her lips against mine, soft, wet. She closed her eyes as we kissed, but I didn’t want to close mine. I wanted to see her.
Her body fit against mine perfectly, and I felt her tremor just slightly in my arms. The kiss grew longer, and tentatively, her tongue just touched mine, and she gave a very soft moan, barely audible. I was flooded with warmth, a feeling I can’t really describe, as the fingertips of my left hand traced the line of her back down to her waist and my right hand came up to gently touch the side of her face. I ran my thumb along her jawline, and her eyes closed even tighter. My tongue brushed just along her teeth, and she gripped the back of my shirt in her fists, pulling me so close I could feel every inch of her.
It felt like an hour before we broke off the kiss, our first kiss, though I’m sure it couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds. We both took a long, slow breath, and she gave a low chuckle, keeping her arms around me. I grinned and said, “That made the whole flight hassle worth the trip.”
Her face flushed. “If it hadn’t, were you going to turn around and get back on the plane?”
“Not a chance,” I said. “I’ll try anything twice. Let’s try again and see if it still works.”
Her face flushed an even brighter red, right down to her neck, and her eyes dropped to my chest, shaded by those amazing eyelashes. She smiled, tiny dimples forming in her cheeks. Whatever resistance I might have had vanished away with one sweep of those eyelashes.
“Are you hungry?” she asked, her eyes darting back to mine, then back down, the smile staying on her face.
“Starving,” I said.
“We missed our reservations at Michelangelo’s. They’ll never let us in this late.”
“I’ll go anywhere with you,” I replied.
“I know a pretty good pizza place.”
“Lead the way,” I replied.
She started to break off the embrace, and I took a deep breath to clear my head. I didn’t want to let go. She smiled even wider, if that was possible, and tilted her face back again, eyes closing before our lips came together again. This time I closed my eyes, lost in
